Hetalia: Under Your Spell
by Bai-Marionette
Summary: Witch!AU: Arthur never thought he would find someone like him in the New World. Not after the great massacre of his kind in England. But then, he found Alfred, and for a time, he was happy. That is until Fate came knocking on their door to reveal both their fears. Because fire has a great ability of bringing dark things to the light, and revealing the truth. UKUS/USUK
1. A Place To Call Home

**Under Your Spell**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** Salem Witch Trial-AU: Arthur never thought he would find someone like him in the New World. Not after the great massacre of his kind in England. But then, he found Alfred, and for a time, he was happy. That is until Fate came knocking on their door to reveal both their fears. UKUS

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

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**Recommended Listening: **"Chop Suey" by System of a Down

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**.:Chapter One:.**

_A Place To Call Home_

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I stepped off the ship, uneasy, and my very middle alit with fear. I could sense it. Something bad was going to happen here or had already happened.

I frowned, but nonetheless, continued down the ramp to feel the earth beneath my boots. It was dark, at the moment, so I took off my hat. I bit my lip, the sense of bad happenings coming in more strongly now that I was directly on the new soil.

I looked around and found nothing to be wary of. I nearly thought my fears were baseless and just me being paranoid before I tried to reach out to find someone like me. Then, I got the most dreadful sensation. Cold chills, winter's very breath, walked along my neck. I stiffened, almost immediately. I knew that sensation.

It meant bad.

I almost couldn't believe it; I didn't want to believe it. I looked around me, still trying to reach out and find something. I tried to remain inconspicuous, but as my fear turned to horror, it became harder to hide my distraught. I was alone. I was the only witch here…and something bad was lurking in the area.

I licked my lips, hoping no one had seen me looking around. I tried to walk on, hoping to find the lone house in the woods that my sister had told me of when she had written me. I was going to live in her old home. Her husband had died, her baby too, from something she refused to say. She had left the New World, and told me I could have her old house for all it was worth.

To be honest, I had thought she was insane. I couldn't understand why she would want to give up such a life. Living in the New World…it seemed like it was better than living in England at the moment. At least, to me, it was. The old witch trials, I have still no idea how I survived. I was grateful, though, I am not complaining. But what was so wrong with the New World, as it was now? Why would my sister leave?

Is it because, I began to ponder as I recited her directions to the house by memory. After the death of her husband and baby, she was alone? Had there been more of us here?

As I came upon the old and wrangled tree she specified, I frowned. I went up to the tree and put my hand to its bark. Almost immediately, my chest seized and my breath became a hiss.

* * *

_Screams, horrid screams, and then came the fire. Eager flames licking up all it could catch in its greedy golden clutches. More screams rang through my ears, as I saw shadowed faces running after something. Someone was crying, sobbing, and screaming. I could hear rustles, the crunch of wild grass being run through and over._

_I saw fear in someone's eyes. It was too dark to see their whole person, but I could make out the faint glitters of tears. I could see faint bright gold behind them, and not too far behind. They faces looked to be portrayed in vivid fear and horror. I could see them running past when my line of sight, right as I finally made out the blur of dark figures and golden orbs._

_It was a mob._

_More specifically, it looked to be an angry mob with torches._

_Right before I could tear myself from seeing how this vision would end, the fate of that poor soul, I heard the distinct sound of a witch screaming. It was a pretty distinct sound, seemingly almost two souls screaming at once in unison. I knew something bad had just happened._

_A scream ripped through the air and I could nearly picture their pain… But then, my angle changed and I saw that they had fallen into a trap. Their foot was caught, the metal piercing through their leg like a knife through warm butter. I could only watch in horror as the mob neared, but the person who had fallen couldn't run away._

_I saw their eyes squeeze shut, as they turned away and tried to hide their face in the tall grass. I saw their shoulder shaking, and I knew they were crying. But then, I heard them whisper among their own sobs, "You took him away from me…!"_

* * *

I suddenly tore my hand from the bark. I looked at the tree, searching for any sign that my vision had been imprinted into this place. But I found nothing. No noticeable man-made trenches within the bark, only the tiny drilled holes from birds and the occasional nest from squirrels and birds alike.

I frowned, and then looked at my hand. It seemed fine. No lacerations or anything to speak of. I sighed, rubbing at my temples. After a fitful moment, I looked at the tree one last time. It didn't seem magical in the least, just an ordinary tree. It had a darkened spot, most likely lightning, but other than that: it was lush and green, full of life and vitality. It didn't seem to speak of evil or bad happenings…

So why couldn't I shake my chills…?

I sighed, thinking my mind was making up fears again. The witch trials were over. England had already gone through them. I had survived. It couldn't happen again. The trials can't follow me here…they can't, can they?

I shook my head, fitfully, as I cursed the thought to oblivion. The trials would not and could not follow across the Atlantic Ocean. That was impossible.

I tried to keep walking, keeping that in mind, but the thought still festered in my mind. Feeding off the paranoia already there and growing stronger with more conviction. I prayed that I could keep my sanity. Mad men tend to end up dead faster than witches, anyways.

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**.:Home:.**

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When I came upon the house, I had little to say. Or, I may have been rendered speechless. It wasn't exactly grand, but it was far from poorly made or just shabby. My sister's husband had done well to build it.

It had solid stone walls near one side, and wooden ones on the other. The window had an ivy plant stretching over it, and when I looked, I found some weed-choked herbs lying about the front yard and near the ivy's base.

I made my way inside, trying to be mindful and kick off some dirt to spare me extra work in the future. My eyes took in the warm-looking cabin, its dark wooden and stone walls and the lighter shade of flooring. I saw some of the ivy plant trying to creep in through the window.

But what caught my eye was the little blue fairy staring at me. Literally, she was staring at me. Then she jumped to her feet, started fluttering her wings and flew directly at me. "No," she started to beg, "This is my spot! You can't stay here! I claimed it first!"

I frowned. What was going on? "What is wrong with me staying here?"

I tried to open my hand for me to step on, to ease her wings. She looked scared, and when I looked closer, I saw she was thin and dirty. This immediately frightened me. Fairies were known to always look their best, no matter the situation. That his fairy had come to me, scared and looking what I thought was way below what she could have been, fed my paranoia even more.

The fairy looked at me, with big blue eyes. "The earth…the earth is closed to us, now…" She cast her head down, her blue hair covering her face. She put her hands to her face and wept. "The flowers are being eaten out of by the weeds, the soil is too rocky for me to dig through," she sobbed. "The witch family here left me, a long time ago, after a bad illness swept over."

She whimpered, "The lady left me, here, without any way to protect myself, and-and no one else could see me. All of my food was pretty much stolen, I'm dirty because I have been digging though I can't get any progress and-and…" She sobbed again, and I tried to shush her.

"There, there, dear," I said, softly. I tried to use a single finger to pet her head. She seemed to soften up, her whimpers lessening. "I-I'm sorry, mister…but I'm so hungry and tired and dirty." She sighed, wiping her face with a dirty hand and then wincing. "I feel like the dirt is weighing down on my wings and making me even dirtier. I hate it."

I clucked my tongue at her and she started. When her head rose to mine, I smiled. "It's a good thing I'm here then, isn't it?" Her face brightened, extending her hand. "I'm Abbey! What's your name?"

I smiled again, deciding I liked the little Abbey. "I am Arthur Kirkland." Abbey's smile fell, she paled, "Wait...Kirkland is a witch name…" Her face showed all of her fear, as she looked around. As if she was expecting someone to jump out of nowhere.

"Why yes," I said, not understanding her sudden fear. "Kirkland is a common last name with some of us, magic practitioners." Abbey looked up at me, eyes suddenly flat and dark. They had lost their bright blue color and now resembled darkness. "Guard thee neck, carefully, witch. Thy neighbors will not hesitate to raise it above you."

I blinked, and suddenly Abbey was bright again. She was skipping along my palm, playing with my thumb. "So, Artie, can you whip me up a nice bath if I find some herbs for you?" She said, looking back up at me. She brushed an overgrown bang from her face, but it pushed its way back across her face to her distaste. She put a dirty finger to her lip, and paused to look out the nearby window. "There is a nice sage plant by the river moss, now I think about it…"

I blinked away my confusion at her previous dark statement, and tried to smile. At least, to pretend nothing was wrong. "The sage would be nice, I shall get your bath ready for you while you run and fetch it for me."

Abbey smiled, and then flicked something off her wing. "Okay then!" She beamed, about to take flight, "I'll be back in a sec!"

I watched her fly away, albeit bits slower than fairies normally go because of her saying of the dirt on her wings. She looked so thin, I recalled as I searched for a usable cup for Abbey to use as a tub. Once I found one, I took use of the small well outside in the backyard. I could see Abbey, her blue a bright giveaway against all of the green.

But what caught my immediate attention, and horror I might add, was the state of the garden. Abbey had been right. Weeds choked most of the soil, and actual crops were nearly dead with dehydration or being shoved out of the ground by rocks. I noticed some of the rocks had a black dust on them. I tried to brush it off as very fertile soil, though the earth was not yet that dark.

I sighed at the state of the garden. I would be working for a long time to get it back in order. I walked forwards into the mess of weeds and dying harvests to see if anything was still worth picking. I wanted to use some seed and flower for Abbey's bath, as she looked like she would appreciate the extra sentiment, and also some spices for me.

Then a small sprout of fern caught my eyes and I grinned, as I reached forward, "Well done, and perfect for the both of us!" I tried to carefully avoid other plants, as I reached over to grab it, when I my caught against something and I heard Abbey cry out, "Arthur no!"

A moment later, I was done and I felt something sinking beneath me. Abbey was calling out to both me, and someone else. I heard her screaming threats, and then her cries of outrage when she thought she was being ignored. I blinked, feeling as though my foot was being sunk into the dirt.

I frowned, and ripped my foot free. Besides a small tug, nothing else happened. I raised myself up quickly, and brushed the dirt from my person, thoroughly annoying. "Well then," I muttered, "now that event has transpired, I am getting my fern seed."

I felt the tug at my leg again, and Abbey suddenly flew into my face. She was holding the sage, the long piece was bigger than her, and she hurriedly said, "Uh, Arthur, why don't you go back inside? I can go get the fern seed too." I am to assume my face displayed some suspicion or mistrust, because she hurriedly added, "Besides, it's getting really dark. S-see?"

I looked up at the sky, and sure enough, the face of the new moon looked down on me. I frowned, fear rising in me. It was a common fear of witches to be caught out on a new moon, at night. I bit my lip, and then nodded. "Oh, alright, I guess it is rather dark…"

I made to turn back, but then Abbey squeaked as I felt something once more tug at him. I frowned, and kicked my foot to get it free. Abbey made a small sound and then I felt my foot coming loose from whatever had once held it.

It must have been a thorny root or something, I told myself as I walked back inside. But, still my worries nagged at me. A thorny root wouldn't do that. I knew that. Something was out there, in the backyard. Abbey seemed to know about it too. She was afraid of it. If a fairy was afraid of it, then I had a good reason to fear for my safety and life.

As soon as Abbey came back, I took her sage. She had collected more, as well as the fern seed I had tried to get myself. I boiled her water over the fireplace, and burned the sage. The scent of the burned herb calmed me down a little. Its scent would repel any dark forces. Or at least it should.

While Abbey enjoyed her bath, playing with a fern seed and laughing as she rid her body of its accumulated dirt, I tried to make something of the last edible things in the cabin. My sister had not left much. But everything was mostly untouched. It would seem she left in a hurry.

Luckily, I managed to find some salted pork that looked safe to eat, along with enough scraps of oats to make a small bowl. Even with the available spices to make it better, the meal still didn't sit well with my stomach.

"Arthur?" I looked up to see Abbey flitting around me. She was dried from her bath and flying significantly better. Her skin was clearer, her hair seemed lighter and her wings were translucent again. Somehow she had cut her bangs, so she wasn't batting at them all the time. "You don't look so good…" She flitted about me, pressing her nearly feather light palm against my cheek.

"You're warm," she said, her voice rising into a high pitch. It almost made my ears hurt to catch it. "I'm sorry! Did I pick bad herbs? I am so sorry!" She was close to tears once more. "I always screw up! This is why no one wants to be my friend! I can't even pick good herbs! It's all h—"

Her words were cut off, by a low emitting groan from outside. She yipped and flitted behind my ear. I blinked, and tried to ask what was wrong. But my voice was starting to slur and I found my head was beginning to throb dully. I groaned, and simply stood. "I am retiring for the night."

"C-can I sleep with you," Abbey asked, her voice stammering with embarrassment and something else, "in the bed?" I felt myself nod, and then regretted it. My head was hurting even more. I could nearly pick out the beating of my heart in my ears, as I heard something rustle in the grass outside. I figured it was the wind, despite how Abbey hid further behind me.

I tried to push aside my pain to walk up the short flight of stairs. It didn't take much to find the bedroom, there were only two rooms. One held an abandoned cradle and the other boasted a comfortable bed. A bed I let myself crawl into with little care besides to remove my shoes.

I would start cleaning tomorrow. If I was to live here, I would have to. There was actually dust in the fireplace. Not only that, but I found more of that black substance inside of the house. It was in smaller amounts the farther you got from the back door, but the substance only seemed to gather in cracks and corners. Mostly those two, I had noticed, where I saw some kind of dark marking on whatever it was touching.

Shaking my head, I tried to ignore any and all thoughts that might hinder me from sleeping. I had work to do in the morning, a lot or work, and I would need all the rest this sleep could give me. I hoped it would be enough to get through the most of it.

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**-END CHAPTER-**

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And that's all I have written for this story. This is kind of a gift fict for a friend of mine on FFnet. (I hope this chapter got you, hun! I tried, but I'm still wearing off my medicine.)

It's not a one-shot, and I really hope to expand on it...if anybody bothers to actually like anyway…

But yeah, I have it planned out and trust me, this story is really going to test me. I was writing down the chapter sequences and stuff, and guys, this story basically told me "I will make this author suffer".

._. Damn you, history…

Tell me what you guys think!

**READ AND ****REVIEW****!**


	2. Give Me A Good Scare

**Under Your Spell**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** Salem Witch Trial-AU: Arthur never thought he would find someone like him in the New World. Not after the great massacre of his kind in England. But then, he found Alfred, and for a time, he was happy. That is until Fate came knocking on their door to reveal both their fears. UKUS

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

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Author Alert:

Story alert/ Favorites: **aphrodite931, yukicole02, Luna at Midnight, Shadow Prussia, OmgPandi, bandluvr06, AnimeRainbow98, Demon Piper**

Reviewer(s)!: **aphrodite931, Shadow Prussia, OmgPandi, Nana, bandluvr06**

aphrodite931: It's alright to be concerned. But thankfully, that is a long ways into the story and even then, I doubt that you will really have to worry about that. (Why don't you trust Abbey?) I'm glad you liked the opening chapter!

Shadow Prussia: Yes, a cliffhanger! Mwuahaha! You'll find out who spelled Arthur soon~ ovo

OmgPandi: Oh wow, I'm glad you find Abby interesting. (But you don't trust her! XP) You might be able to look forward to a few more chapters if this update gets enough response~

Nana: I'm glad you enjoy my stories. You'll find another vision this chapter, and your mind will be tested once more. It is both: past and future. (Don't worry, it won't be a tragedy…I'm lying, yes it will, someone will die, but it's not who you think.) I'm glad you like the mystery and creepiness of my fict. Yes, it is ash, but it's also something else. You'll soon find that Arthur's sister didn't have much of a choice but to leave.

bandluvr06: I don't really want this to be a one-shot, and I'm glad you don't think so either. I'll try to update soon. I left that in the dark for a reason, dear.

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**Recommended Listening: **"Haunted" by Evanescence

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**.:Chapter Two:.**

_Give Me A Good Scare_

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To say I had a strange dream would be an understatement. It had begun fitful, a fever brewing within me, and my throat seemingly becoming drier and steadily drier. My breathing felt labored, and then at one time, it felt as if I wasn't breathing at all. A sharp sensation of something being pulled unsuccessfully from inside of me, and then—

Nothing…It just seemed to stop suddenly, for no apparent reason other than that it might have just been me imagining it all…Which I somewhat doubt. I have yet to ever have a fever or any sickness to affect me in such a way. I haven't even had food poisoning, yet, but then again…I might have ate some bad food. Maybe, the food left by my sister wasn't actually safe to eat.

Anyhow, my sleep then turned for the better, my breathing evening out, and my chest elevating and dropping easier. My fever seemed to ease down significantly. The tugging in my chest turned to soft but insistent prodding. But it was prodding I could ignore. But I saw the glimpse of something:

* * *

_It took a moment, in the time within my dream, to blink as my eyes adjusted to the bright light of the sun. A soft and warm was placed upon everything, and I blinked in awe. Everything just looked so…peaceful._

_Olive willow trees' branches scratched the dark earth, and little yellow butterflies flitted about merrily. White petals from soft flowers blew in the wind, and one flew in my face and seemed to kiss my pale, freckled nose and then flitted away. My cheeks colored, and my emerald eyes widened slightly._

_I had begun to stammer, as some warm feeling had started to spread within me. I…I can't explain it. It was if I had been left in the cold for so long inside, and then someone came with warmth. It stung at first, as it would, but then I gradually began to accept its heat with welcome._

_The moment I did so, the warmth was yanked from my grasp, and I heard a slight shuffle of the wild grass. I blinked, trying to discern what had caused the minor disturbance. My eyes narrowed, as the sun's light began to affect me. England had been rainy mostly, and suddenly being exposed to so much sun was going to take some adjustment._

_A soft sigh escaped someone, and my ears caught it. I rounded on a heel, and found a body lying in the ground. Their gender could not be determined from the angle, and seeing as they were facing away from me and on their side. But I could see some minor appearances. _

_They were blonde, and had a skin tone that spoke of being in the sun often enough to gain more color from it. They weren't like the Native "Indians" I had heard so much about in England, though, and this slightly disappointed me. Well that is, until I heard them grunt. _

_For some phantom reason, I held my breath and tried to hide my small form behind a wide willow. I saw from my vintage point, as they tried to push themselves up. I found myself thinking them both a fool, and somewhat of a strong character. Why, you ask?_

_For one, I could clearly see they were injured. The dark substance, similar to what I found in the house my sister left me, covered them from their head to the tip of their bare feet. I heard them grunt, as they forced themselves to rise, only to fall back to their earlier position. _

_They shouted something in a indistinct tongue, and I frowned. It wasn't English, not even close. But that wasn't what made my blood freeze in my veins. That sudden tongue wasn't what made my jump nearly several feet in my skin. _

_No, it was when, their head suddenly turned around on their neck, quick enough to hear the snap of their neck breaking. Well, if they were human, it would be broken. But they just stared at me. That was when I screamed bloody murder. _

_It was a woman, her short blond hair singed, black at the tips, and dark brown further upwards. Her face told of starvation, her cheeks hollow with hunger, and her eyes sunken. Speaking of her eyes, they were fully black ones which had red trails from the corners and down the middle of her cheeks. Her mouth had an odd pair of tiny bites above the corner of her upper lip. A bit of bites, perhaps?_

_She tried to speak, but then, as if someone had suddenly grasped her, her eyes bugged out of her head. A loud growl sounded over the area, and I heard her shrill scream ring through the air. But one word made it past her lips:_

"_Run!"_

* * *

I suddenly seized, eyes opening in reality. My breath was fast, as if I had been running, when I know I hadn't at all. My eyes were still wide, as I looked to the window, and saw nothing like the woman who had tried to warn me in my dream.

I don't even know what was more shocking, that when I awoke I had an ague root lying clearly at the nightstand or that Abbey was attempting to wring a cloth from a steaming basin of water. I could smell several herbs from here, and not all of them were meant for…say, helping someone in their health should it be introduced to skin. I blinked, to be sure that I wasn't in fact delusional. But now, what I was seeing was entirely true.

"A-abbey, what are you doing?" I managed to ask. My lips felt as though they had sealed with a sort of glue or fastener, and I would come into resistance when I needed to use them to speak. I frowned, groaning, as I began my attempt to sit up. My head hurt something awful. My chest felt like it was on fire. As if too much of that warmth had been taken in, and now my body was regretting such a decision.

"Arthur, are you alright?" Abbey asked, as she flew to hover over my nose. "I don't think you should be that pale…" I opened my eyes, and then frowned when I was met with no light. It was dark. I looked for the window, and saw it was dark. I had slept through the day.

"Oh bollocks," I swore softly. Abbey flew to perch on my nose. "What, what's wrong now?" she asked, and I made a gentle nod of my head at the window. "It's after nightfall," I said, disappointedly. "I can't do much work in the work. I haven't even found the candles, yet."

I can't really confirm it, but I think I saw her pale. "O-oh, really," she stammered, and I thought her behavior was odd. Why was she so afraid? "T-that's, um, really…" She suddenly stopped herself, as she was about to say, "I should—" Whatever it was, I didn't hear it, but Abbey as a matter of fact did.

She paled further, and I saw her tiny form trembling in mid air. A small gust of wind blew my hair gently from my face, but whipped her across the room like she was being swatted like a bug. I tried to jump to her aide, crying out, "Abbey!"

But I couldn't move…It felt like I was being forced in place. I blinked in the dark, kicking out my feet, trying to find something and gain advantage, but my feet met nothing but air. I was sputtering, in indignation, but meanwhile, Abbey was crying half across the room.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Her sobbing voice called out to someone. I found myself growing weaker with one of her words, as if my energy was slowing being drawn from me, as she spoke. I felt myself slowing falling under, anger rising within me. Why was I suddenly so tired? I had just had that awful nightmare, didn't I?

…_Wait, but a moment_, I thought. Almost, as if it had never truly existed, bits of the nightmare faded to nothing in my mind.

It was lastly, the woman's face, her starved face full of torture and hunger, of pain and misery, slowly becoming hazy and soon nothing. Her image faded in my mind, but I caught the sight of her sobbing in the clearing, sobbing in that tongue of hers. Her head was shaking, as she held her face from view.

"Sum dolet, I'm sorry," Abbey cried out, and a low growl in response. I felt my movements slow to nothing, and my eyelids grow heavy with an unnatural sleep. Abbey's words were gradually becoming an incomprehensible much in my ears.

I barely caught the bits of "I'll…good… I won't… slip… anymore!" I tried to furrow my brow, but that required more energy than I had, and I ultimately gave up. I tried to focus more on Abbey's words, but…it was so hard. Sleep sounded so good, just like the promise of sun and peacefulness after a long time of heavy rain and furious winds.

"I promise…please don't …" She continued to sob, and I thought I heard a slight sound. I can't really determine it, but it was like the sound of a quiet snap of teeth. Whatever it was, it made Abbey whimper, her sobs stilling to nothing. Her final words or at least the final words I heard before sleep overtook my will, and plunged me into darkness, were: "Arthur…stay…forever!

I didn't have time to ponder this, as I finally felt myself being thrown into the dark abyss of sleep. However, I did catch an unfamiliar voice snarling:

"_I'll see that you do, Abigail. You and the others belong to me. You can't leave, not without_" I missed the word, when it was said, but I caught the ending. "_None of you can leave me; you all keep helping them escape. But you won't get this one, Arthur Jamieson Kirkland is mine_."

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**.:Backyard:.**

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It was nearly a few days later, that I found myself busying in uprooting dead plants and weeds, the dirt covering me as proof of my hard labor, and being content in the warm sun and soil. Abbey flinted about, the fairy was squealing about some little acorn or something else in her recent travels around the rejuvenated garden.

Surprisingly, the garden had taken exceptionally well to me. The herbs in the front yard were thriving wonderfully, and the ones in the back were no exception. Although, it was in my opinion, they seemed to be doing even better.

I had found some many things, medicine and food-wise, that I had taken to stuffing excess amounts in canvas bags and storing them in the cellar by the great tree in the back of the yard. Each bag boasted a certain colored ribbon, ribbons I had found around the house surprisingly, to give insight of their contents.

"Artie, look!" Abbey chirped, as she attempted to hold up a somewhat watered down bloom of Rhododendron. It might have been originally white, but now it was grey and its wide petals were soiled with grime and grey spots where the erosion of water was making its presence best known.

My eyes widened at that, mind recollecting at the meaning of the flower. Beware, and the more dying the flower, the greater the danger, and I stopped what I was doing. Rhododendron didn't naturally grow in this area. Not only that, but that flower was on the verge of death. As if it was purposely picked on its death bed.

"Isn't this great? This whole strand…" Abbey paused in her chatter, only to find me staring at the flower as if it had insulted me. In a way, it had. That was a seriously deadly flower; I didn't want to caught by anyone or anything with it. Bad things happen to people with dying evil flowers. I wouldn't be one of those people.

"Arthur…what is it?" Abbey asked, as something flashed behind her eyes. My movements were sudden, as I felt something tug at my conscious slightly, hardly even there. I suddenly found myself snatching the flower, with a growl obviously not my own, and with a few darkly muttered words, I set aflame.

The dying white flower went ablaze in darkly-colored magical flames, before vanishing in a puff of ill-scented grey smoke. It was quiet for but a moment, and then Abbey stammered, "A-Arthur? Is everything okay? I-I..."

I didn't give her time to finish, as I rose from off of my kneeling position in the ground. "I think it's time to retire for the afternoon, Abbey?" I said, flatly, in a tone not mine at all. I don't who was speaking those words, but whoever it was, their words immediately made Abbey submissive. She clutched at her arm, with one hard, and looked down, before muttering, "R-right, the sun's going down anyways…"

I nodded, and rose. I didn't check to see if she was behind me, or had even made a move to follow me into the house. I wish I did. Because, later I would find, even after it was well after dark, that Abbey didn't come in that night.

I had set out her favorite teacup, one of the few that were still usable and not chipped too badly, to bathe in. But she never came. I tried to put off my worries, trying to tell myself she was fine and not in any sort of trouble.

I had more food now, mostly what I grew at home, or what appeared overnight on my doorstep. Usually random chickens and quails, on one occasion a pig. All of the animals had been in a sort of trance, though, and hadn't even resisted being led to death. I found it odd, but never really thought about it too hard. I was taught not to look a gift horse in the mouth, and I would not break this rule and find something I wasn't meant to see.

If it meant that I could keep my head above the soil for a few more decades, then I would keep my mouth shut and my eyes to what is in front of me and given to be mine. I was probably better off not knowing anyway…

"Bloody Hell," I swore softly, as I impatiently shoved myself from the table. I crossed the small room, to peer through the window. I had expected to see nothing.

I had expected to see only my empty garden, and maybe one of the few chickens I had let free about the property to lay eggs for me. I had expected to see the tips of the wild grass that liked to swish about the back window. I had expected to see possibly a faint blue light chasing smaller white and yellowish orbs about in the dark. I had expected to see Abbey tapping on the window, having forgotten about coming on, like she had taken to do, after dark, some nights. I had expected anything but what I saw…

I had expected; I had expected, and I had expected …but my expectations were not met at all, in fact, my earlier rule: the one about looking at was right in front of me, yes that one.

…I should have kept to that rule.

The woman, from a weeks' past dream, her face was at the face of the window. I could now clearly see that her eyes were not the fully black I had though them to be. They weren't there at all. They had been gorged out, that was the mystery behind the bloody red trails from her eyes. I could see why she had trouble speaking; her mouth was halfway stitched shut.

My scream rose in my throat, but it was never chance to rise to fruition, as the woman's gouged eyes narrowed into thin slits and she reached her arms through the window, in an attempt to grab through the glass.

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**-END CHAPTER-**

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**CLIFF-HANGER, BITCHES. 8D**

Oh my Gott, this chapter attempted to kick my ass numerous times. I hope you guys enjoyed it, because I took the time REPEATEDLY to focus on this story and get it right, rather than updating my other stories. But this chapter turned out to be fun to write in a way.

Now, you have hints and hints and some DARKNESS. More suspense and suspicion, and other shit. –w-

Tell me what you guys think!

Oh yeah...Could you guys vote on my poll? If you haven't already, and pretty please, recommend this story to more people? Please? It would make me so happy to see more response and/or fans wanting this story to continue. :)

**READ AND ****REVIEW****!**


	3. Drag Me to Hell

**Under Your Spell**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** Salem Witch Trial-AU: Arthur never thought he would find someone like him in the New World. Not after the great massacre of his kind in England. But then, he found Alfred, and for a time, he was happy. That is until Fate came knocking on their door to reveal both their fears. UKUS

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

* * *

Author Alert:

Story alert/ Favorites: ** Ember Hinote, PKS, flamefoxyuki, Prussian Sinister, SeafoamPurpleCurtains, AllyMCainey, yukicole02, knyghtstar**

Reviewer(s)!: **OmgPandi, Ember Hinote, Prussian Sinister, SeafoamPurpleCurtains, Nana, yukicole02, Shadow Prussia**

OmgPandi: You'll find out a bit as to what happened to her, here in this chapter, but not much as her memory is interrupted… By death, literally. Suspense and darkness, it's one of my favorite combos as well. :)

Ember Hinote: DON'T ASK ME, ASK THE DEAD GHOSTLY LADY! I'm glad you liked the horror. You'll see that Arthur's dreams are both fiction and then reality, past and future, true and false.

Prussian Sinister: Don't draw her, hun…This is what you were procrastinating against? Huh…okay then, never say that last part again. You sound like me off energy drinks. XD

SeafoamPurpleCurtains: As long as you don't scream in my ear, I'm fine…

Nana: What did I tell you guys about reading late at night…*sigh* It can't be helped. Once you learn Abbey's situation, you'll soon find she can't say a word or risk being punished. I'm not sure whether to be happy or fearful that you pictured the dead woman so well. She means well, but her appearance comes across as harmful.

yukicole02: I'm glad to hear you think so, and I surely will.

Shadow Prussia: Kolkolkol, not a horror story, just yet. But it will be soon. And cliff hangers are a writer's best friend, don't you know? ;) I know that joke! XD Maybe she does, she can't exactly say with stitches on her mouth! :P AND HEY! Only the Hero is allowed to call Iggy a damsel in distress! XDD

And now, as you all waited for it…

**THE 'HERO' HAS ARRIVED! **(sort of...)

* * *

**Recommended Listening: **"Counting Bodies like Sheep" by A Perfect Circle

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**.:Chapter Three:.**

_Drag Me to Hell_

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_**Save me! **_

I could hear her broken and alternating pitched voice in my head. It hurt. It hurt my head and my ears. It was too deep-sounding in my head, and came as a broken growl. But in my ears, it was the high pitched shrilling of a bird.

Before, I could recover from the voice's intrusion, I felt broken and jagged nail draw against the skin of my face. She was beyond cold. Her very fingertips nearly gave frostbite, where they touched me. I tried to backpedal, to get away, but those eyes…those eyes looked at me, as the woman's head shook wildly. Her hair was even dirtier now. The blonde was nearly indistinguishable from all of the soot and dark gunk over it.

Her pale face held even more scratches, and some looked fresh with blood. Somehow, the number of stitches sealing her mouth shut had increased from two to four. Her mouth was bloodier, and had the remnants of dirt and mud on it. I could see some dead brown grass caught in the seams of the new stitches.

Speaking of her stitches…The dark string was done even messier than the first two. The first were evenly spaced, and done neatly by a seemingly practiced hand. The new ones were rough and crisscrossed over the middle and near corner of her mouth. Blood was seeping from the crude stitching. Her lips with the newer stitches looked bruised, and were covered with dried and drying blood.

Her face looked like a broken mask. Her eyes were still gone, but the red trails had thickened, and I now saw a crack above her cheekbone. Another crack ran through her eye socket and extended over her hairline. On one side of her face, it looked like a hammer had been used to create a spider web of cracks on her.

She struggled to speak, her mouth barely emitting grunts and sobs. I hated the sound of it. I tried to focus on something else. I cracked open my eyes, despite the growing pain in my head, and saw that half of her body was coming forth from the window.

Her breast was muddy, there's no other way to say it. It was covered with mud, and blood. I could see multiple rips and tears on the high and yellow stained collar, and the torn and ragged white shirt she wore. Blood was a close acquaintance to her. Where a rip was, I either saw rotted or burned skin.

It was revolting to say the least. I tried to pull away from her reach, but then I saw her give an enormous effort as she pushed herself through the window to jump at me.

_**Oh, please, don't run away–!**_

I couldn't help but to open my mouth to scream. I threw out my arms, trying to gather the magic within the air and dispel her, but she grabbed my arm. Her grip was tight, and nearly bone-crushing. I knew for certain that bruises would lie there in the morning.

I was on my way to falling over, my boot heel skidding and giving way under me. My face met hers, and I saw something in those gouged out eyes: Terror. Then I literally felt myself slipping. I can't explain it. It was utterly like I had slipped and fell in a deep and black hole.

But when I hit the ground, I was seeing through her eyes. I was feeling what she was, what she had, a long time ago.

* * *

_There was the sound of a door being broken down and the sound of a voice pleading in a corner. It was the growls and snarling of bloodthirsty hounds, and the mob of angry voices barely suppressed by the thick door between us._

"_No! Stop!" It was my own voice, and yet I could hear that it wasn't truly mine, as confusing as that may sound. It was horrifying, but I did not know what to think of, other than that I did not like it and I wanted everything to stop. But I didn't know how to make it stop. So, it continued. The combined voices made chills run up my spine, as I felt my shared body being forcibly grabbed. "I did not do this! I swear it!"_

_I felt like I couldn't move. I looked down and saw dark hands, the hands of a shadow, were holding me still and captive. I began to panic, fear nearly making me want to vomit, as I saw a bright ball of blue, and nearly found myself going into shock to see little Abbey – shadows attached to her wings, and forcing her body to fly over to the door and undo the lock ._

_I shook my head, "No…Please, no…"_

_There was the sound of the door giving away with a sudden crack, and the flood of stomps as they tried to find me. I saw slim hands, much like my own, but covered in black gunk, hugging the dirtied bottom of a dress. I could hear sobbing, and the whimpering of a small child._

_Then…The hands, they were grabbing me, grabbing everything on me. Someone cuffed me in the face, I was kicked and punched; I heard myself cry out in pain. My hair was gripped tightly in someone else's fist, and I was dragged out of the room harshly. A child was screaming, their voice shrill with pain, and the sound of more voices as they tried to silence it with force._

* * *

The best way I can describe falling into that black hole is this: Imagine you are swimming. Your foot gets caught on an underwater plant. You try to free yourself, but that only makes it worse. The more you try to free yourself, the higher the tide becomes.

Eventually, you are consumed by this tide. But for that one split second of shock, you open your mouth to scream and find your lungs being filled. Not with air, but with heavy water. The water is crushing your lungs, crushing you, but you can't find a way to get back up on your own….

It's becoming dark, and you just decide to close your eyes, and fight harder. You kick, and try to feel around to break the plant. But you're not making much progress. You know this, but you still try to escape…

Even though, your fingers are growing steadily number…

* * *

_I heard my voice screaming with hers, as I tried to hang onto the doorframe. I could barely make out a face at the top of the dark stairway. But it was barely a look, better labeled as only a glimpse of wide grin that was full of dagger teeth._

_I heard myself scream, "You bloody bastard, you- you did this!" A unified scream, as I was cuffed in the face again. I thought I heard a snap because, as my nose was broken, I could feel the beginnings of blood dribble down my upper lip._

_The light of the moon streaming through the window illuminated only one eye – a dark blue one – and made the figure's wide grin of dangerous teeth all the more terrifying. I saw their shoulders move up and down, as they chuckled. _

"_No, my dear, your own deeds have done this to you." They spoke, and it seemed as if only I could hear him. I could tell that he was male from the voice, and how some of their silhouette gave away some of their body form. But…his voice, it was both dripping with seduction and then cooing for my pain. His face hardened, "You thought you could leave me." _

_It made me sick, his very voice made me sick to my stomach, as I winced and cried out when someone used the butt of a gun to smash my fingers against the doorframe. I didn't bother to bite my lip, swearing loudly, as I tried to hold back whimpers, and thought of prayers. "Lord…please, I beg you to help me. Don't let them take me, I beg of you."_

_Then came the feeling of magic erupting and rumbling underneath the ground…I felt magic swell at my feet. It was unfamiliar magic, but at the same time, we knew this magic like the back of our hand. _

_It was black magic. But it wasn't coming from us. I gasped, as I traced its source. "No…"_

_It was coming from the male on the stairs. He practically darkened the room with the shadows of black magic, and the stench of death hung in the air. But no witch, much less a human, could stand that much back magic and still be alive. To be around that much was very well nearly killing me. The only to survive and carry that much in their presence alone was a…_

_Only a demon could…_

* * *

I don't know if I have ever said it before, but one of the most awful sensation is the one where you feel yourself so deathly still that your heartbeat feels too fast. I loathe that feeling. I also loathe the feeling of not being able to take charge of myself.

That is where I was now, with this vision… I was slowly growing number, with each passing moment. My head was pounding. I could feel my heartbeat thud away in his ears. My breathing was growing slower. My ears were starting to hurt. With moment I was allowed to grow numb, the numbness was starting to turn into pain.

* * *

_I kept seeing his cold grin, as I was dragged from the house. After a moment of pure shock, I outright screamed. I could hear the demon laugh at me, laugh at my pain. I kept calling out my denial. "No, no, no! It wasn't supposed to be like this! No!"_

_Then, the child began screaming, and my head whipped over to see her being lead to woods…while, my share of the people were heading in the opposite direction of the woods. I began to panic. The child was so younger after all, a whole life ahead of them. _

_It was while I was thrashing and being further dragged away and beaten, that the feeling of magic swelling up to the surface grew stronger. I thrashed my head, and I heard myself call out an unfamiliar name. It must have been the child's name, because no one carrying me to my soon demise was giving a damn about my screaming. _

_But, before I could do any more, there was a solid scream. The scream was one I knew all too well, and it my heart shatter in my chest. It was the scream of a witch, two voices crying at once, and there was a horrid and sadistic laugh falling with it. _

_No one could deny it; it was the laugh of that demon on the stairs. I felt my head rise, as I kept screaming and thrashing, as I smelt smoke in the air. "No! No, not the child! She was only a baby!"_

_And there he was: the demon was laughing at us, as he mostly hid in branches, and watched us both be sentenced to death. I felt harsh hands tug at my head, to force it back and someone wrapped a blindfold over my eyes. The world went dark, and the smoke drew closer to my nose._

"_Burn, witch," the voice of the male said. "May you suffer for every life you let be taken. May you hear your child's screams of pain for all eternity as you both burn in Hell." _

_I felt our shared body being held down and still on a hard surface, probably a table, and something sharp pricked at our lips. A second later, it was shoved quickly through the skin and then pulled out. I tried to scream, but the repetitive sewing made it harder to do, as the process kept on, and the ability to open our mouth was taken away._

* * *

I felt finished. The numbness was about to crawl up my chest, and possibly silence my heart and relieve my lungs of the stress of breathing, but something was holding there. I don't know what exactly it was. But I could distantly hear voices coming in. they came drifting into my mind, sounding like they were bouncing off a cave's walls.

It was annoying to say the least. Not only did it hurt my ears even more, but for some reason, my head began hurting worse, as I thought I felt something weigh down on my chest. It might have been a hand, or it might have been a boulder, for all I know.

Right about then, each of them felt about the same to me. I couldn't wait to be relieved of the intense pressure attempting to crush me. It couldn't be over sooner. I couldn't wait for it to end. Let this madness end. Let my pain cease. Let me retain my sanity—

Let me out. Let me out. Let me out! Let me out! Let me out!

**LET ME OUT**!

**LET ME OUT OF HERE, DAMN IT!**

* * *

_Just as I thought it couldn't get any more awful, the voice cries out, "Oh, let there be fire, dear sir! Let that cunt suffer!" That awful laugh, and before we could even think about what was happening, I felt us being pulled upright and then tied to a stake. My feet were already burning with the fire growing at my ankles._

_We cried. It was one of the last things, we could think to do. We cried, as the voice laughed at us. We couldn't even scream, and opening or mouth would be too great a pain…_

_It got worse, right as the fire began to rise, right as I thought we were going to risk tremendous pain to open our mouth to scream, the feel of soft lips appeared at our shared lips. A rough tongue swiped at the blood there. _

_The devil in human form spoke last time, "You will forever remain under my spell, Emily Delaine Drew. You can never escape me."_

* * *

The sound of glass shattering was so sharp that it made my eyes water, and my chest suddenly heavier than the boulder from before. It was as if someone was suppressing my chest, so I couldn't breathe. But then, after a moment, just as I imagined my face was turning blue, air rushed into my starved lungs.

My green eyes startled open, and I was coughing and gasping. Someone was talking, but it sounded like a warbled and god awful mess. My ears were still ringing, and I cringed. The voices stopped. But then I felt myself being shifted into someone's lap.

I was trying to indulge in breathing, when I heard a familiar voice call out to me, broken and softly, from the dark gunk on the floor. I looked down at myself, and my nose wrinkled. I was covered in it. How in the bloody Hell…?

Abbey flinted over in my vision, her face apologetic, and not the solemn faced one I had seen in the vision. Wait, that couldn't have been Abbey. The Fae barely made it over five years. It had been decades since the witch trial in England. There was no way it was same fairy.

"Arthur?" she asked, "Are you alright?" When I blinked, and tried to smile to show that I heard. She immediately began blubbering. "Oh thank you, thank you, and thank you! You had looked mad, when you went inside, so I stayed outside to make you happy again."

Abbey flew to brush some hair from my eyes, and I thought I felt her hand touch me. But it must have been the wind or something affecting him or giving me chills…but Abbey was freezing. "I had been about to get this really nice herb, I can't remember what it was, when I heard you screaming back at the house."

I blinked, and I was right about to ask a question, when Abbey cut me off. She kept right on talking, "I was so scared! I couldn't bring a human; they wouldn't be able to see me! So I had to find someone like you, and I was so scared, but then Alfred was coming out of the trees and –!'

I frowned, about to ask why he was coming out of the trees near my property, when I felt my body relax some, as hand began running its fingers through my hair. Something soothing ran through me at the touch. Abbey gave me a worried look, and I looked up. My heart nearly stopped.

It might have been a bad angle. It might have been the poor lightning. It might even had been my poor lungs distorting what I was seeing….

But for a split moment, the young man in front had dark blue eyes in the dark room, and the way the moon went across his face made it seem like he had half of the cold grin.

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**-END CHAPTER-**

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**WASN'T THAT AWESOME? 8D**

Oh my Gott, this chapter …I had to look up some much execution stuff guys. I hope you all enjoyed it, because I took the time REPEATEDLY to get scarred by Google images, and get it right, rather than making sure my sanity (what I have left, anyways) was enough to be able to go to sleep. But this chapter turned out to be fun to write in a way. ^^

…Kind of.

The Hero has arrived, and some past is revealed! Who's scared shitless?

Tell me what you guys think!

**READ AND ****REVIEW****!**


	4. Cross My Way

**Under Your Spell**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** Witch Trial-AU: Arthur never thought he would find someone like him in the New World. Not after the great massacre of his kind in England. But then, he found Alfred, and for a time, he was happy. That is until Fate came knocking on their door to reveal both their fears. UKUS

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

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**.:Chapter Four:.**

_Cross My Way_

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I tensed, and just the tiniest sliver of irrationality was all it took to create a near disaster.

Now, my mother had taught me much better to do what I did. She had done well to break some manners into my thick skull. I give her near all credit for my upbringing, since my father was nearly always away to keep up appearances so no one would get suspicious of what our true nature may be. My mother was a good woman, albeit horribly and sometimes ruthlessly strict – but she did well in raising me.

Too bad I made her out to be some weak-willed young girl who had had no idea of what the Hell she had been doing in raising me – when I punched the very lad holding me in the face and sent him flat on the floor. By the time, Abbey was screaming, I was scrambling to get up, and when his hand reached out to grab my ankle, I did what any rational being does when something grabs them and they're afraid -

I took the still hot tea kettle and threw it at them, lid and all, hot water and all.

Abbey barely ducked free of the horrid offense, but the young lad – whether, unfortunately or fortunately, did not. They hollered in pain, as their hand made contact with boiling water, and their face caught the droplets that hadn't been held off by their outreached hands.

But their hands slapped the floor, when the kettle made a not-so pleasant sound as it hit the lad across the head. I chose then to ask questions, "Who are you? And what are you doing in my home?"

To make matters worse, Abbey was throwing a fit, "Arthur! Why – what have you done?" The little blue fairy was flying around the downed lad's head, dust sprinkling down and going all across their face. She was panicking, and I was breathing heavily, my hands shaking, and I was near as bad a wreck as the poor girl was.

Well, I might have been the slightest bit better, I was crying like Abbey was.

"Arthur! Why did you do that? He's not waking up!" The fairy kept crying. "What if he doesn't wake up? Are we going to get in trouble? I can't survive on my own, Arthur, I was barely even living day-to-day when you showed up! I can't do this alone all over again!"

I sighed, trying to restrain myself, trying to calm down, but first things had to asked and answered. "Abbey," I began, my voice was firm and gave no way to argument or nonsense. "Now – why did you let an utter stranger into my home?"

The fairy stopped her crying almost immediately, and her wings stilled from their whirlwind of motion. Her face was not in my direction, and when I asked her to turn around, she hesitated, before doing so. She kept her head down, keeping close to the downed lad, and not coming to me even when I outstretched my hand for her. She just stayed away from me. "I-I...you were h-hurt..."

I almost could have sworn I saw shadows moving from the corners of my eyes, but I felt that it was more of a concern to keep my eyes on Abbey and the young lad still laying across my floor. I couldn't see his features clearly in the dark, but at that moment, I was hardly concerned with him – more, with the fairy who had let him in, who had been _outside_, when both the front and back door both open from the _inside_, unless broken door.

"How did he get in, Abbey?" I asked, and the fairy bit her lip. When she answered, it was almost as if she had spat out the words.

"You had broken the window, Arthur, he used that to get in."

Now, it had been such a coincidence that when she said I had broken the window, that I felt an awfully cold draft brush over my face. I looked at Abbey, who still kept her head down, so that I could not read her face, and saw that indeed – the window had been broken. But I did not recall breaking it.

I stared at that window for what seemed like a long time, before I licked my lips. I brought a nail to my lip to bite at it, before I dared to risk eye contact with Abbey again. She still would not look at me. I did not ask her again. Instead, I watched the coincidental storm brew behind the glass and blow in cold and wet air through and around the room. Some shards of glass on the floor shifted. I frowned, and was about to ask how I had broken the glass, if the shards were on the _inside _of the house as well, when at that moment -

The young man on the floor stirred, eliciting from himself a groan, as he seemed to regain consciousness. My eyes searched the room for anything I could grasp to defend myself with, should my new 'guest' feel any sort of hostility; I could have sworn that the shadows in the room tensed, as if ready to strike me. I was about to blink - when I saw more than one face, at a strike of lightning, stare back at me. One even seemed to glare at me, its shadowy being almost crouched in a defensive position, as a strike of lightning almost lit up its face to display human if not rotted features and another crack of thunder voiced over the words that might have spilled from its moving mouth.

But then, the lad was gathering himself on the floor, holding his head, groaning, and the shadows seemed to disperse just as suddenly as I had seemed to take notice of them. I blinked again and again, but they were not there. Nor were they any other shadows in the room either, despite how dark it was.

"Ow...my head," the lad groaned. Abbey was immediately animated again, apologizing profusely for my actions and then explaining all what had happened in less than a minute and one breath. I was doubting that the other fellow even seemed to be able to gather the half of her ramblings, as I found myself barely able to do the same. But the young man nodded, frowned, holding his head and pulling his hand away to show an inkling of blood, before his eyes darted to me and then back at Abbey.

I really wished I had had something in my hands. He might have been hostile after all.

When Abbey seemed to finish, she flitted around the fellow's head, asking if anything hurt and if she could do anything to hurt and if he needed anything and all else. The lad was smiling at her, trying to cajole her with sweet nothings about being fine but for a sore head and numb fingertips. I had wanted to frown at the mere sight of his smile.

It made me almost feel sick, false chills going up my spine, before I even realized what was going on, and nearly missing the other lad get up and onto his feet. I watched him get up, cast an almost cautious looking glance at me, before he made an attempt to cough behind his hand to act as a tension breaker.

I stood my ground, arm crossed my chest and space made clear between us. I wanted answers, and I wanted him out of my house. I don't care if he had come as an aide, there was no longer a danger to my life or person, so any service he could have done was not required. I still had no earthly idea as to how he had gotten into my house. And I definitely intended to find out, if only to make sure that he couldn't back in that way.

"Um, I guess we started on the wrong foot, right?" The lad made to send out his hand as an invitation to shake it. I didn't shake it. I glared at it, and then doubly so at him. Abbey made a small drop in her height from the floor, and then her wings picked up speed and began to hum, as the fellow stared at his hand as if something was wrong. Then, the fellow was brushing it off like it was nothing and was back to smiling once more. "But yeah, my name is Alfred."

I said nothing at first, only continued to glare. But as I had said, my mother had raised me better than to be a discourteous bastard when it did not call for it. So I bit back on my pride, stood straighter, and fixed the front of my shirt, trying as best as I was able to rid myself of the dark substance that wanted to cling to my person. "I am Arthur Kirkland, to what do I owe the pleasure of meeting you in such...a circumstance, Alfred...?"

"Alfred F. Jones!" Alfred said back, seemingly more excited after finding my name, than I had had ever known anyone in my entire life. Then a small glimpse of something went through his eyes, as his smile turned just a fraction of a portion wider. "Kirkland...that's an English name, a name common among noble witches, am I right?"

Was my last name common knowledge among everyone, really? At this rate, I was going to be found out and hung, after merely introducing myself, faster than a whore is burnt for her sins in front of the Church's steps.

Apparently, I had made a face, because Alfred quickly laughed and then said, with an unnecessary wave of his hands, "No, no, there's no need to be so edgy, Arthur." His eyes glimmered something in the dark, and the sight made me uneasy. Something was off-putting about it. There was something dark in it, and I didn't want to be the one it shone down upon. "I won't tell on you, that's just rude – not to mention, kind of hypocritical."

I raised a thick brow, "Wait – what?"

"Yes, I am a witch," Alfred nodded, confirming the small question I had had in my mind, as he smiled and almost looked a bit sheepish as he said. "I know, I know, I don't look it much, but that's because I'm not full-blooded, see? My mother was one, but...I guess my father wasn't, but I don't know. I never got to meet him, and she never talked about him, so..." Alfred shrugged, after the small confession, still smiling as ever.

"I see," I said slowly, and then made to take a few steps further back. I looked to my left, and saw Abbey still flitting about a certain portion of the room. Alfred was in front of me, and now he looked concerned, "Hey, Arthur, what's wrong? Why are you -?"

"How did you get in my house?" I cut him off. My patience had just suddenly panned out, without warning. Normally, I had a good meter of it, but tonight, that patience had virtually gone nonexistent. "The glass should have gone outside, if I had broken my window – so why is it inside?"

Alfred stilled in his motions to reach out to me, frowning, with his eyes beginning to narrow as I thought I saw something glimmer back in their depths once more. Abbey froze in her flight, looking about and then back at the window. And right as I made to look behind them, as well, Alfred sighed, looking even more concerned. "You might have hit your head harder than I thought then..."

What.

"What?" I snapped, "Now, what are you trying to say, you little -!"

"Arthur, there's no glass in the house at all, really," Abbey spoke up at the broken window. She leaned against the rain splattered frame, doing her very best not to get blown away or get her wings back. "Except for where it was broken, there's some shards here, but I think I see most of the glass on the outside..."

I almost didn't believe her. When had she moved? I would have saw her, her color is far too bright a color to miss. I would have saw her! But sure enough, when I looked down to the floor, beneath the window, there was no broken glass. Not even a good handful of shards to prove my earlier claims. But I had known for sure that I had seen glass there. I may not have stepped on it to have felt it, or have touched it in any sort of way, I may not have even heard the window pane break open to leave the glass there in the first place – but I know damned well that there had glass shards on the inside of my house.

I looked back up to Alfred, who was standing offhandedly to my side, rubbing the back of his head, his lips pressed to a firm line as he gave me what could almost be called a look made for pity. Inwardly, I wanted to snarl. I wish I could have, but that was unsightly. Even in my tired state, I was no way going to disrespect my mother further by becoming so uncouth since I had left England and her presence.

I was going to remain the same stern and mannerly Kirkland that I had left England as, and I was going to put my foot down and push this incident behind me – if only to save my mother's memory the embarrassment of having to feel the blow.

"Well then," I began. I tried to nod, took a moment's silence, and then licked my lips again. "Since I was wrong," God, that felt awful coming off my tongue since I knew it was not at all true, "I trust that you mean no harm then after all, Alfred?"

The man damn well looked smug in the poor lighting of what was left of the room. Abbey was flitting back, coming to rest on his shoulder, and cling to his collar for warmth and to dry off, ignoring me entirely. "Oh, sure!" He beamed, holding out another hand for me to shake. "I hope this means that we can put this whole thing behind us, right?"

I looked at his hand briefly, and allowed a small smile to grace my pale lips. "Gladly," I said, and at the touch of our hands, lightning shoot down, in the utter darkness, Alfred's face lit up halfway, shadows casting off of it in all sorts of ways, and for a split second, I thought I felt my breath catch and a shot of frigid death seemed to grip my heart in an utter shock of energy pulsing through me.

"Arthur? Arthur!"

The minute we let go of each other's hands, I was on the floor, and I was unconscious, not another word to be said.

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**.:Backyard:.**

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Some time had passed since I had initially met Alfred, and I had found in such time to find him as a dorky, if not somewhat exceptionally gifted buffoon of a young man. He said the dumbest of things, at some of the most inopportune moments when he could have said something else, and often had a habit of forgetting things. Important things.

Such as now, when I had told him not to walk around in the garden barefoot and then expect to walk into my house with those same dirty feet. I growled under my breath, feeling my blood pressure rise, as I pinched my brow with gloved fingers. He had only been in my sight for a little over an hour.

"Hey Arthur! Guess what I caught in the river today!"

I sighed, as I sat back on my haunches, will to fight having died long ago when he had first started showing up at my part of the land. He followed no time schedule, it would seem, sometimes coming at the early morning and picking my lock to wake me up at ungodly hours of the morning, dropping out of thin air to appear in the better hours of the mornings and the occasional afternoon, or sometimes, even coming after the sun went down.

"What, Alfred?" I called back, and looked to see him holding a large fish on a hook. He was grinning from ear to ear, and he was soaking wet; his thin white shirt having gone see through and stuck to his chest, although thankfully, his darker pants had not followed the same pattern – well, not in being see-through, they still clung to his skin for all they were worth. Alfred seemed not to notice.

"Good heavens, boy!" I shouted, a small blush attaining my cheeks. "Have some decency! You're soaking wet, and tracking through dirt! You can't expect me to let you into my house, like that!" Alfred blinked, looked down at himself, and then looked back up and laughed.

"Oops, got a shirt I can use again, Artie?" Alfred replied, scratching the back of his head. His attention caught on something in the woods, and for a brief moment, he looked serious – before a small movement in the underbrush made him smile yet again. I didn't get a chance to look after it, and had no idea of what it could have been.

"No, I most certainly do not!" I snapped, cheeks flaming a bit more as he came closer. "And stop calling me that! I have told you that more than once already!" In truth, I had possibly said it a hundred times, and the boy still seemed to be deaf in more ways than one. Everything seemed to come through one ear and out the other, hardly anything I said to the lad seemed to actually stick – such as how he was just proceeding to still call me that infernal nickname and still tack mud through my yard work.

I sighed, turning away and shaking my head, seeking to find myself back in my work once more. I uprooted another weed, taking care not to damage a delicate herb in the process. I pulled away, smiling a bit to myself, as I looked about the collection. In all honesty, the garden had taken exceptionally well to my hand, and if not for the tree root that seemed to take pleasure by randomly popping from nowhere, I would have said it was downright splendid in its order.

Speaking of roots...

"Abbey!" I called, and I soon heard the tiny clatter of fairy wings as she came around a corner, narrowly avoiding Alfred's ear as she gave chase to a bird for a seed.

"Yes, Arthur?" She said, as she took a hold of the nut and tried to pull it free from the bird's claws. "What is it? Do you need something?" She gave a brief moment to look down at me, before she elbowed the back of the bird's legs, causing it to shriek and drop its food. Abbey immediately dove for it, catching it effortlessly and coming back down to settle on my shoulder. Alfred congratulated her on her new prize, causing said fairy to blush and wave her hand as she flipped back her hair. It was growing longer again. She would need to cut it soon, I inwardly noticed.

"Be a dear, and snatch a jasmine from across the pond for me, will you?" I asked her. "I was thinking of using it later on." The fairy didn't press for why, having grown to my asking for herbs and not giving a direct explanation as to why.

"Will do," she replied, and with a clatter of wings, the fairy was off. Alfred and I watched after for a moment, before I took to brushing off my knees and gathering my things to head back inside. The sun was setting, and while I had used to reside outside for all periods of the night in England, I had become a tad cautious of what I did upon nightfall ever since the incident prior to meeting Alfred.

It still unnerved me, whenever I thought about it.

"Are you coming, lad? I'm heading in," I said to Alfred. I didn't bother looking behind me to check to see if the other was coming, having grown used to how he would follow me inside when he came while I was gardening. However, I was surprised, when he hesitated.

Said pause made me turn in my doorway, and I found him eying the brocade of thick trees at the edge of the creek. I didn't see anything, and I was about to ask what was wrong, when Alfred put up a finger – not one holding the fish, thankfully – and said, "Shh, do you hear that?"

"I don't hear anything -" I started, and he shushed me again. I rolled my eyes, and tried to listen. I tuned my ears, checking for any distinct sounds, and found only the rustling of grass and the bustling of the nearby water source. I was about to repeat my earlier claim, when then I heard it.

Another shuffle in the underbrush.

I eyed it, a small line of dread acting as a weight in my middle that grew with each passing moment. Abbey came around the corner, smiling bright as always, and then what had been hiding all along pounced -

Abbey turned at the last second, and I had the utter pleasure of seeing her eyes widen as she nearly dropped the flower and screamed, "BEAR!"

She was taking off for the direction of the house, and suddenly I found myself greeted with a fish to the face and a terrified and shrieking fairy in my ear. I cried out at the suddenness of it all, as I felt a strong hand shove me inside of the house, my sense returning at the last second to see Alfred shutting the door behind himself and then cutting off my view of him as he kept himself outside.

"What the bloody Hell?" I shouted, Abbey still wailing, as I fought the urge to throw the fish to the floor or place it down on a nearby surface. Luckily, the fish made it onto a side table, before I heard the bear's growls and roars, along with Alfred's angry shouting and the sound of a whip cracking. The bear roared again, as I banged down on my own back door, calling for Alfred, calling him an idiot and everything else as I demanded to be let out to help – I could more than handle a simple bear, although I had not come across one in England – and then came the sound. The crack of a whip, and then a hiss, and the bear's roar was cut off.

All went still.

I nearly ceased banging down on the door, only to bring my fist down on heavily breathing Alfred who suddenly opened it for me. For a moment, I was speechless. He had a decent layer of sweat on his brow, and a long and deep scratch across his chest that was bleeding out onto the ground. His shoulders were slightly slumped, but his eyes looked energized, as if he had been excited.

"What was that all about?" I snapped, the moment I found myself back in possession of words again. I was breathing a bit more, myself, but nothing like Alfred. I was actually surprised he was still standing. I looked behind him, and saw the carcass of the bear lying most assuredly dead on the ground. Its face was one of utter horror, and black sears were scattered across its frame. It looked like the beast had run through being shot at by lightning bolts, more than a good few cutting in deep enough to kill.

Alfred looked at me, and grinned, trying to laugh, "It's all good, Artie-"

And then his face paled. He clutched at his chest, grin nearly falling, as he managed, "T-too soon..."

I was right there to catch him, as he stumbled in my doorway, scoffing, as I huffed a bit of air to raise my bangs from my green eyes. I rolled said orbs, as I heard Abbey already panicking. I put the fairy to work, ordering her to put the jasmine to use early by putting it in the tea kettle, along with a few other things hanging from my rafters of herbs on the ceiling by the kitchen. Despite her panic, the fairy managed fine, and I set to work on dragging a surprisingly heavy Alfred from the door to the foyer to sit in the love seat there.

He gave a sigh of relief, eyes half lidded, and still breathing heavily. I looked at him, shaking my head disapprovingly, as I made to close the door. "Honestly, Alfred, taking on a full-grown wild bear by yourself – have you lost your mind?"

He grinned, head lolling to one side, "Just...wanted to – to make sure you kept safe, Artie..." I huffed at the explanation, a small bit of color rising to my cheeks, but keeping my comments under my breath as I made to find something to stop the bleeding. After finding all that I had, I told Alfred to gather my needle and thread. Alfred seemed to flinch at the mention of a needle, but I might have been imagining things.

I tried to be gentle in prying off the still-wet shirt. The blood had made its stickiness even worse. My breath caught at the wound, it was even deeper than I had expected and I sighed at Alfred's recklessness. "Yes, indeed, you'll have to stay with me until this heals. You won't be going anywhere, until this is at least halfway healed, and maybe not even that."

Alfred frowned at that, looking down at his wound and flinching himself. Abbey returned with my request, and I took them from her to set down on the small table, as I wrung a towel in the water I had gotten, and tried to clean the wound as best as I was able. I found numerous scars and markings, some seeming to stem from various animal bites, others from accidents and others made from crude stitching and other tended wounds that looked like battle scars.

"Such a reckless boy," I muttered under my breath, and Alfred laughed. He winced, as I dug out a piece of what looked like gunk or dirt in the wound. I kept on with my work, asking Abbey on little off moments to stir the kettle or add another spice. Once I was satisfied with cleaning the wound, I made to stitch it.

Alfred looked impossibly uncomfortable, and tried to wiggle away, before I took the chance to right him by sitting askance his lap. I asked Abbey to turn up my lamp, and with the better lighting to my aide, I wove a thin piece of string through the hole of the needle and began to work.

Alfred was very tense, having shut his eyes tight closed and I had to gently massage the skin ahead of my progress to ensure I didn't close it so tightly as it be exceedingly painful. I made quick work of this, using deft fingers that had grown expert from under my mother's watchful eye in England, and within minutes, I was done. I wiped the wound again, but there was still blood. I poured some of the kettle into a cup I had gotten, and after wringing the towel again, I wiped over the wound again, muttering a spell of a good nature to ease the healing process along.

I wiped my hands, getting to my feet and straightening my back, as Alfred peeked open an eye. He blinked upon finding that I was done, and was offering a cup of floral scented tea to him. I was already off to toss out the water, and get bandages, when he stumbled out, "Um, thank you, Arthur...it's really nice work...thank you."

"Don't mention it," I said, and kept walking. I returned with bandages, and after a brief argument with Alfred about taking off his shirt, I made to shield the wound from future harm or infection. I then had to force the idiot into drinking the tea, having to drink some of the tea myself to convince him that it wasn't poisoned. Alfred confessed to not being a tea drinker, claiming he had grown to hate the taste ever since he had been young child.

"Hm," I said, sitting on my chair, taking a sip of the tea from my own cup. I sat there, contemplating nothing, when I recalled the fish and jumped to my feet. I had nearly upset my tea, and had made Alfred jump in the process, making his eyes dart around as he began to spout off questions of what was wrong. Abbey was already flying ahead to see what had worried me, and she laughed, as she said, "He forgot about the fish, caring for you! Silly little Brit!"

I huffed, taking the large fish, and thinking of what to do with it. It was a bit much to eat alone, and after seeing a blush form on Alfred's cheeks at something Abbey whispered in his ear, I said aloud, "We'll have fish for dinner, any argument?"

"No ma'am – no, sir," Alfred quickly corrected himself, blush becoming darker, as I felt my eye twitch. I was most certainly not a woman, and while I could prove it, I refused to make myself indecent. I simply huffed, and made to prepare the fish. I listened to Abbey chatting amiably in the background, Alfred occasionally going with her, until I told him to rest and not talk so much. He seemed to listen for once, or maybe he had been tired, but he did talk less.

Eventually, he had fallen asleep, and although, it did give a small kick to my heart to wake what looked like such a peaceful sleep, I woke him to eat and give him more of the tea. The lad had the tongue to complain that the fish was bland, and I snapped at him that I didn't like much seasoning because it bothered the back of my throat and my lungs. Allergies, I explained, and Alfred nodded, and then went quiet again.

Abbey feasted herself on a berry I gave her, and after a swift bath in her teacup above the fireplace, I found myself retiring to bed. Only Alfred's voice from the love seat I had left him on stopped me, "Um, do I sleep down here or...?"

I immediately blushed a bit at my forgetfulness, causing Abbey to laugh at me again, and I said, "No. I've finally gotten to fixing up the guest room, where the old crib used to be, you can sleep there. You should be warm enough, I put all of my spare blankets on that bed."

Alfred nodded, going to stand on his own and wincing as his wound protested. I sighed, shaking my head, moving quickly to help him along to the upstairs room. I had to halfway carry him up there, and by the time I got to the room, I felt even more tired. Alfred was heavier than he had looked to be.

"Dear heavens, boy," I said, as Alfred made himself comfortable. He was smiling at small design in the covers, as I toyed with a lamp. "How much do you eat to weigh that much?"

Alfred looked up, "Hm? Well, I used to eat a lot, but I don't so much anymore...kind of. I always thought I was kind of fat, when I was younger, but no one says I look like, so I guess it's muscle or something?"

"Whatever it is," I went on, "it makes weigh more than you appear." I asked if he was done with fiddling with the pattern, and he laughed, nodding and saying yes. I huffed, turning out the lamp and making my way out, about to close the door when Alfred called out, "Don't! Leave it open, just a crack...I-I don't like the door fully closed. It feels weird."

Too tired to argue, I rolled my eyes and let the door be slightly ajar, and wandered off to my own rooms. Abbey was already at her little bundle of fabric that she had made for herself from my discarded pieces, and was waiting for me to turn out the night. I slipped off my shoes, turning myself into my nightwear, and settling into bed.

It was only as I was on the brink of sleep, that I heard the slight creak of the floorboards, and I recalled that in all of my time without Alfred in my presence, I had never even known bears to have roamed the area. And yet, one had attacked Alfred just today, but had made no move to attack at my door – despite my commotion. Surely, an animal would have at least reacted to the noise, and then what of the strange blackenings on its fur?

What did those mean? I tried to think over these things, but sleep beckoned me close after my long day, and I found it harder to fight, despite how an inner part of myself wondered why my floorboards were even creaking, when everyone in the house should have still been in bed.

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**-END CHAPTER-**

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**Why did I not update this?**

Why. Meep.

**READ AND ****REVIEW****!**


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